"What will you think of me, dear Adèle, if a few hours after writing my last letter I tell you not to heed the request it contained? I hope soon to be able to let you know why I do this, but I cannot tell you to-day. I cannot leave Castle Hohenwald, and so you are relieved of the burden of looking for another situation for me. Farewell, dear; you will soon hear farther from your
"Lucie"
Styrum listened with the greatest attention, but, although his betrothed had told him of the letter from Lucie in which she had entreated that another position might be found for her, he could give the Geheimrath no information as to why this letter, which had evidently been written since, should be found in the Finanzrath's waste-paper basket.
Steuber tossed it aside and began upon the creamy-coloured scraps, over which he worked diligently for nearly an hour. When the letter lay complete before him he uttered an involuntary exclamation of delight. "This," he said, "is a very important document; it puts me upon a fresh scent. It is addressed to Count Repuin, care of Colonel von Berngberg, in Cassel. Colonel von Berngberg has never before been suspected of hostility to the government; this is a reward for all the trouble we have had." Again the malicious twinkle of his eyes, the joy he evidently felt at the implication in treasonable schemes of a man hitherto thought loyal, disgusted Count Styrum, who, on the spur of the moment, said haughtily "I must pray you, Herr Geheimrath, to spare me the contents of this letter; any prying into official secrets is of course extremely distasteful to me as a soldier and officer."
Steuber looked up from his work for a moment and nodded kindly. "I understand you, Count, but, unfortunately, I cannot relieve you from the duty of listening. I am working under orders, and in the service for the time of your superior officer, whom you now represent. Besides, I will wager that you will not regret listening to the letter that now lies before me. It was written by the Finanzrath, and afterwards, for some unknown reason, destroyed by him; and it runs thus:
"I write in the greatest haste, my dear Count, to tell you that I have received intimations, whether from a trustworthy source or not I cannot say, that our correspondence is known and watched. It is better to be careful: therefore do not intrust your letters to the post again. Send them in the way you know of; it is more secure, although less speedy, than the post. I will make one more attempt to win over my father and my brother, but I tell you frankly that I fear it will be fruitless. My father is no politician, and Arno is an idealist whose heart is set upon a united Germany. If he should re-enter the service he will probably fight against our friends. Indeed, he is so enthusiastic a 'patriot' that it is questionable whether it would be wise to attempt to influence him.Always yours,
"'W. Von H.'"
As he finished it the Geheimrath looked up to his companion with a smile of triumph. "Are you satisfied now with my work, Count?" he asked. "We may inform Count Schlichting that there can be no possible pretext for arresting the Freiherr or his son Arno; not a shadow of suspicion rests upon them. What do you think? For my part I consider our search ended; there is nothing more to be found here. Let us go and report to the colonel. My task at Castle Hohenwald is over."
Count Schlichting felt a sense of relief when the Geheimrath left the garden-room and he found himself alone with his old friend and his children.
"This is but a sorry errand of mine here, Hohenwald," he said, seating himself beside the Freiherr's rolling-chair; "but you must not take it ill of me, since I accepted the part assigned me in hopes that you would rather see a friend than a stranger, odious although his duties might make him in your eyes. I am rejoiced that Werner got wind of our coming and has vanished; now my hope is that that cursed Geheimrath may poke his infernal nose wherever he chooses in the castle without raking up any evidence against you and Arno."
"Have you any doubts on that head?" the Freiherr asked, bitterly.
There was a degree of embarrassment in the colonel's air as he replied, "No, not that; but politics nowadays are puzzling. I have the greatest confidence in you; but who can judge for others? Here's the Finanzrath doubtless an excellent fellow in other respects, has dabbled in plots and schemes which are now thought treasonable, but which may, at another turn of the wheel, lead him to a ribbon and star. To-day a warrant of arrest is out against him, but who knows whether in another month he may not be held in high honour in Saxony and Southern Germany? I should be very sorry if you, old friend, and your son, who fought the Prussians bravely four years ago, had been led into any indiscretions; but indeed I could not blame you, for, God knows, it is hard enough for us Saxons to fight shoulder to shoulder with our former foes, against those to whom we owe it that we are not to-day in the position of the poor Hanoverians and Hessians. I am an old soldier, and go wherever my king sends me; but I cannot say that this time I unsheathe my sword with any enthusiasm."
"I never rejoiced more to draw mine!" said Arno, whom the colonel's expressions had evidently pained. "In 1866 I fought with bitterness, a German against Germans, and I left the service with a savage hatred for Prussia smouldering within me; to-day it is forgotten in love of country, of the German fatherland, of which Prussia is now the representative, standing foremost in the conflict with the arch-enemy of German freedom, and as the defender of our German Rhine against French greed of territory. If my brother can have forgotten the duty he owes to his country, it is all the more incumbent upon me to do what I can to wash away all stain of treason from the Hohenwald name."
"That you will surely do, my dearest brother!" Celia cried, with glowing cheeks. "Your fidelity will atone for Werner's treachery, and our father will bless you for vindicating the honour of his name."
The colonel looked at them with a smile as he stroked his gray moustache, and said, "Aha, I see clearly that Steuber's long nose will soon forsake Castle Hohenwald! You have cause to be proud of your pretty daughter and your son, old friend; still, we will not judge Werner; let every man be true to his own convictions. I hear with pleasure, Herr von Hohenwald, that you wish to re-enter the army. I am at your service in this matter; nothing would give me greater satisfaction than to have so brave an officer in my regiment, and I will, if you authorize me to do so, apprise the king of this when I take him the news to-morrow of our fruitless errand to Castle Hohenwald."
This offer Arno gladly accepted, and it was thereupon agreed that he should accompany the colonel to Dresden that he might immediately join his regiment. All of the little party in the garden-room, in the interesting conversation that ensued, quite forgot the object of the colonel's visit, and were only reminded of it after a long hour by the entrance of Count Styrum with the Geheimrath.
While Arno was greeting his friend with cordial delight, Steuber set the colonel's mind entirely at rest by his report, and by the request that the dragoons might be sent back to A---- and himself relieved of all further duty, since no possible suspicion could attach to any of the present inmates of the castle.
A quarter of an hour later the obnoxious official took his departure, while the colonel and Styrum, upon the Freiherr's earnest invitation, remained in the castle a few hours longer, that Arno might conclude his preparations for leaving, and accompany them to A----, there to take the night train to Dresden.
The time for parting came. The colonel and Styrum took leave of the old Baron and went down into the court-yard, where the carriage was in waiting. Arno was left alone for a moment with his father and sister. The old man was deeply moved. It evidently caused him an effort to release his son's hand from the firm clasp in which he held it, while a tear rolled down his wrinkled cheek upon his silver beard. "Farewell, Arno! farewell, my dear son, pride and delight of my age," he said, drawing his son gently down to him and, for the first time since that son had grown to manhood, pressing his lips to his brow. "Farewell, Arno!" he repeated. "Make me one promise before you go. If, when you return, I am no longer here, be a father to my Celia. I place her happiness in your hands. You must not sacrifice it to an hereditary prejudice, but make good a promise I gave our Anna, and if you ever meet Kurt von Poseneck in the war forget the family feud, and treat him kindly. For Celia's sake look upon him as a brother, for I have promised our Anna that when he comes back he shall be Celia's husband."
Celia threw her arms around her father's neck and burst into tears, but the old man gently put her away from him, and, paying no heed to Arno's look of startled inquiry, lay back in his chair. "Go, children!" he said, in a feeble voice. "You must leave me. This parting is almost more than I can bear. Celia, go with Arno to the carriage. Farewell, my dearest son! Your father's blessing be upon you in the coming struggle for the fatherland!"
Months had passed since the beginning of the war; the German hosts had overrun France, and were girdling Paris with an iron ring, making its surrender but a question of time, while upon the ruins of the empire that had crumbled to decay at Sedan the young republic had been born to pursue with the energy of despair the strife that had been bequeathed to it by imperial policy.
The pretty village of Assais was among the foremost to declare itself devoted to the republic, following the lead of the Marquise de Lancy, the widowed châtelaine of the castle of Assais, who, although a Russian by birth, was an enthusiastic supporter of the new government. Towards the end of September, however, the Marquise had departed for England, leaving the castle in the charge of a cousin, the Baron de Nouart, who had arrived at Assais only a short time previously in company with the brother of the Marquise, a Russian count. The Baron was reported to have been so busy in Germany in the French interest that an asylum in the castle of Assais was exceedingly welcome to him. His reputation in this respect stood him in good stead with the villagers, who otherwise were by no means favourably impressed by the appearance and manner of the substitute of their fair châtelaine, which were those of a man of dissipated life given over to the vice of drinking.
Assais had hitherto escaped any visit from the Prussian soldiery, but its time of immunity had passed. One morning in October an officer of Uhlans, with a small detachment of Prussians, spread terror in the village by galloping through its principal street towards the castle, where he demanded to speak with the Baron de Nouart. The Baron, who had been apprised of the approach of the Prussians, had prepared to receive them after rather a singular fashion. Retiring to his apartment, he had donned a fiery-red wig, with a false beard and moustache of the same colour, while a pair of dark-blue glass spectacles made the colour of his eyes entirely undistinguishable. Thus disguised he appeared before the young officer of Uhlans in the court-yard of the castle. The officer scanned the strange figure before him rather curiously as he asked whether he had the honour of addressing the Baron de Nouart, and whether he could speak German. Upon being assured of the Baron's identity, as well as of his inability to speak German, although he understood it perfectly, the young man continued the conversation in French, informing the Baron that a regiment of infantry and a squadron of Uhlans were about to occupy Assais; that quarters must be provided in the castle for the colonel, officers, and part of the men,--the rest could be accommodated in the village. The more willing the inhabitants showed themselves to receive the Prussian soldiers the less cause should they have for complaint. Having delivered himself thus, and having been assured by the Baron that the castle should be at the disposal of the colonel when he arrived, the Uhlan departed with his men to inspect the village accommodations.
The Baron was as good as his word. Towards evening, when Colonel von Schlichting, with his officers, arrived, the preparations for their reception were far more complete than was required by the rules of war. The Baron kept himself in the background, and was visible only to the Uhlan commander and the colonel, who was by no means favourably impressed with the man who, hat in hand, received him in the castle court-yard and in execrable German declared that he would gladly do all in his power for the comfort of the German officers, but must request to be allowed to retire, as he was a very sick man, most of the time keeping his bed by the physician's orders. His servile demeanour disgusted Count Von Schlichting; but he was obliged to admit that he did not promise too much, so admirable was every arrangement for his comfort.
At dinner, several of the officers expressed their surprise at finding such luxurious quarters and such excellent wines in so secluded a spot, and loudest in his praise was the Uhlan captain of horse, who had been ordered with his squadron to the support of the Saxon regiment in the work of ridding the surrounding country of the bands of franctireurs by which it was infested. "There are no such quarters in all France!" the captain cried, with enthusiasm; "such rooms, such a kitchen, and such a cellar! Indeed, gentlemen, the Baron de Nouart deserves a toast for his hospitality. He is not handsome, that there is no denying; but here's to his health!"
The Saxon officers joined, laughing, in the Prussian captain's toast, and even the colonel did not refuse it, although he drank it with no genuine cordiality. He turned to Count Styrum, beside whom he was sitting at the large round table in the dining-hall. "Are you as much pleased with our host, Count, as are our Prussian comrades?" he asked, in a tone too low to be heard by the others; "although I must confess that our reception here has exceeded my expectations, I am most unpleasantly impressed by our host; he reminds me of some one whom I have seen, I cannot remember whom."
"That's odd," Count Styrum replied; "my own experience is the same. I only saw the man for a moment, and at a distance, and yet it seems to me that I have seen him somewhere formerly, though where I cannot for the life of me remember."
"Are you sure?" the colonel asked.
"No, colonel; such fancies are very little to be relied upon. It struck me, however, that the Baron beat a hasty retreat as soon as he espied me, although I may have been mistaken there, too."
"It is a singular coincidence, however, and I begin to think that Monsieur may have some reason for requesting that we will in future communicate with him through his factotum Gervais."
The conversation was interrupted by Captain von Hohenwald, who came to report that the men had been peacefully distributed among the inhabitants both of Assais and of the neighbouring villages. Arno had scarcely taken the place at table indicated to him by the colonel, with whom he was a favourite officer, when the young Uhlan lieutenant, who had brought the news of the approach of the regiment to Assais in the morning, entered the dining-hall, and was presented by his superior officer, Von Säben, to Count Schlichting as Lieutenant von Poseneck.
Arno's attention was at once arrested upon hearing the familiar name. He had never yet encountered Kurt von Poseneck,--Von Säben's squadron had joined Count Schlichting's regiment only two days previously, Kurt reported that he had made a reconnoissance in all directions and had found no traces of the enemy. This information convinced the colonel that, for the present at least, there was no risk in enjoying to the full the repose and hospitality offered at Assais.
And this the young officers certainly did. The best possible understanding seemed to exist between the Prussians and Saxons, and the hall resounded with mirth and laughter from the various groups into which the large assembly soon divided.
One of these consisted but of three, Count Styrum, Arno von Hohenwald, and Kurt von Poseneck. They had withdrawn to a corner of the hall and were engaged in earnest conversation. How much there was to hear and to tell! Arno felt every trace of the foolish hereditary prejudice fade within him as he looked at the handsome young fellow, who showed in every word and glance his pleasure in thus meeting his Celia's brother. Only from Celia's letters had Arno heard of Kurt, who had written of his advancement to the old Freiherr. Now Kurt was not only begged for the story of his experience since the beginning of the war, but Arno drew from him the account of his first meeting with Celia, and of how Frau von Sorr--Arno felt the blood mount to his cheek at the name--had learned by accident of the intimacy between them.
To that noble woman, Frau von Sorr, Kurt declared, glad indeed to make a confidant of Celia's brother, did he owe it that his love for Celia was no longer a secret. He had faithfully kept his promise never to write to Celia, but he had written to Frau von Sorr two letters to be forwarded to the Freiherr. One of these he feared had miscarried, as Frau von Sorr had not alluded to it in her last letter to him.
Arno's heart beat furiously as he asked, with all the indifference he could assume, "You correspond, then, with Frau von Sorr?"
"Yes. Frau von Sorr permitted me to write to her, and promised to forward my letters to your father when there were any tidings of me to be transmitted to Castle Hohenwald."
"Then you know where Frau von Sorr is at present, and how she has been since leaving the castle?"
Kurt, all unmindful of the suppressed eagerness with which this question was put, replied by giving a detailed account of Frau von Sorr's departure from Grünhagen for Berlin, whence she had retired with her father to his beautiful estate, Kaltenborn, on the Rhine, not far from S----, where she had found a secure retreat from her husband's persecutions. On this score Herr Ahlborn was now quite easy, since Sorr and the Finanzrath had both been obliged to flee the country as proscribed traitors, and any return to Germany for them was impossible until the war should be ended. In her last letter Frau von Sorr had described her life with her father as all that she could desire, telling Kurt that she, with various other women of S----, had established a lazaretto for wounded soldiers, and that she had also prepared accommodations at Kaltenborn for some few, for whom pure country air might be specially desirable. She expressed a hope that Kurt never might be wounded, but prayed him if he were and could contrive it to be sure and be brought to her at Kaltenborn.
"And this," Kurt concluded, "I shall certainly do, if an unlucky bullet should chance to lay me up for a time. I honour that woman from my very soul; she is an angel!"
It was with difficulty that Arno restrained himself from chiming in with Kurt's enthusiastic admiration; his respect for his sister rose on the instant. What penetration and judgment she had shown in bestowing her heart upon this excellent young fellow! As a reward he allowed Kurt to read Celia's last letter,--a letter that transported the lover in thought to the Hohenwald forest, so vividly did it bring his love before him in all that makes girlhood bewitching.
Thus the hours flew by unheeded until the three friends found themselves alone in the spacious hall, when, as they were not weary, Kurt proposed a short walk before retiring to rest, and they all sauntered out into the autumn moonlight that was flooding the garden and park. They walked on aimlessly until, emerging from a thicket of shrubbery, they saw before them one of the wings of the castle. All the windows here were darkened except two upon the ground-floor directly opposite them. The friends paused and gazed involuntarily into the apartment thus revealed to them. It was a large room, luxuriously furnished. In a cushioned arm-chair, beside a round table in the centre of the apartment, sat the Baron de Nouart, and on the table, at his elbow, stood a glass and a half-empty bottle.
Just as the officers emerged from the bushes some slight noise probably attracted the Baron's attention. He raised his head, seemed to be listening for an instant, and then arose hastily and drew close the heavy curtains that had been open to admit the air.
"Let us turn round," Kurt said, in a low tone; "the Baron may else suppose that we wish to spy upon him."
"Which would be a poor reward for the hospitality he has shown us," said Arno.
Styrum said nothing, but followed his companions, and not until they had reached the open lawn before the balcony of the dining-hall did he remark, "The Baron seemed in a great hurry to screen himself from observation."
"Naturally," Arno rejoined; "he had good reasons for so doing. Unless I am much mistaken, that was no wine-bottle at his elbow; it held good cognac. A fellow at such night-work hardly likes to be seen."
"They told me in Nontron that he was an incorrigible drunkard; never sober after noon," Kurt added.
Styrum shook his head; natural as was this explanation of the Baron's conduct, it did not satisfy him. "He may be a drunkard," he said, "but I am convinced that he had other reasons for drawing those curtains so quickly,--the same probably that made him turn away this afternoon when he saw me. I have surely seen that man somewhere; he knows me and fears my recognition. What else did you hear about him in Nontron, Kurt?"
"Not much, but quite enough to justify any suspicion of his honesty. He is said to be a distant relative of the widowed Marquise de Lancy, the owner of the castle, where he made his appearance only a few weeks ago; and although he is a zealous patriot, he is not, they say, a Frenchman, but a Russian. They say, too, that he can speak German extremely well, and yet this morning, when I addressed him in German, he could scarcely reply in the same tongue, although he said that he understood it perfectly. He is a suspicious character."
"I do not see any reason thus far for your distrust of him," Arno observed.
"Nevertheless, the colonel shall learn what Kurt has told us," said Styrum. "It is best to be upon our guard."
The friends then separated and betook themselves to repose.
It had been a weary day for the Baron François de Nouart; he had not even been able to have recourse to his usual stimulant, so impressed was he with the necessity of keeping every faculty upon the alert in the trying position in which he found himself. That this Saxon regiment of all others should have been ordered to Assais was a stroke of terrible ill luck! Not until Gervais reported to him that all was quiet in the castle for the night did he venture to seat himself comfortably at the table in his room with the brandy-flask at his elbow. And even then five minutes had scarcely elapsed when a slight noise causing him to turn his head, he plainly saw through the open window the three officers on the moonlit lawn, and that one of them was the man whom he so dreaded, Count Styrum. He started up and closed the hangings instantly, hearing distinctly as he did so Kurt's words, "Let us turn round; the Baron may else suppose that we wish to spy upon him." Then through a chink in the curtains he watched the three men disappear among the bushes, his heart beating violently the while from fear of detection. After watching some minutes longer he crept softly to Gervais's room, and having received the steward's assurance that the young Uhlan officer with his two friends had returned from the garden, and that all three were now locked in their rooms, he made a stealthy round of the castle. All was quiet, and he once more returned to his room to seek the forgetfulness that he so craved.
But the poor man had scarcely drained a few glasses of his favourite beverage when he was once more disturbed, this time by a low tap upon the window, which he had closed. Could it be a belated officer? Hardly; he would not announce his presence thus. It must be some friend, who for certain reasons did not dare to seek an entrance to the castle more boldly.
Again the knocking came, quicker and more impatient; with uncertain steps the Baron went to the window, and, as he looked through the curtains, uttered an involuntary exclamation of horror, "Count Repuin!" and in an instant the curtains were drawn aside and the window opened. "Are you mad, Count? Do you not know that the castle swarms with Germans?" he whispered, in dismay.
"Then give me your hand and help me to get in at this cursed window," whispered Repuin, who stood without in the disguise of a peasant. "Quick! Am I to stay here until the guard discovers me?"
"I implore you to fly, Count. You will ruin both yourself and me; we shall be shot if you are found in the castle."
"I will not be found. Do as I tell you, and give me your hand!"
The Baron had no choice but to obey. He extended his hand to the Count, who seized it, and with but little difficulty clambered in at the window, which was but a few feet from the ground.
Scarcely had he closed it and drawn the curtains behind him when he turned with a look of scorn to the Baron, "What a coward you are, Sorr!" he said; "your hand trembles like a woman's. Shame on you! Why, I do believe the fellow is drunk again. There stands the empty brandy-bottle. I wonder whether there is enough sense left in your drugged brain to make it worth while to talk reason to you."
Repuin's insulting words made no impression on Sorr; he was too well used to such from the Russian. But the fright that the Count's visit caused him, and the sense of the danger with which it threatened him, helped to sober him. He drank several glasses of cold water, and then bathed his head and face, after which he was sufficiently himself to turn to the Count and say, "What evil star brought you to Assais? Are you resolved upon my ruin?"
"Bah! what is your ruin to me!" the Count rejoined, contemptuously. "You run no greater danger than I do. Are you sufficiently collected now to understand me?"
"Yes; what do you want?"
"I wish to convince myself by personal information how matters stand here in Assais; there is no confidence to be placed in the reports circulating everywhere; these French make mountains out of mole-hills. You must give me exact intelligence with regard to the enemy."
"How am I to do that? Do you suppose that Count Schlichting makes me his confidant?"
"Ah, Colonel Schlichting is here, then?"
"Yes; with his whole regiment, and a squadron of Prussian Uhlans."
"Hm! They are too many for us as yet, then,--we must wait a few days. Is Count Styrum here? I suppose so from your disguise; you look like a scarecrow."
"Yes, he is here, and also Arno von Hohenwald."
"Baron Arno, my rival with your lovely wife. Let him look to himself!"
"What can you do? The Germans are too strong for you."
"Just at present they are, but in a few days we shall outnumber them; victory has made them over-bold; they are venturing too far northwest, and they imagine that they have to do only with some scattering bands of franctireurs. I have learned enough for to-day, but you must contrive to keep me informed of all that is going on here. For a messenger you must employ the village maire, Fournier; his boy Louis was shot a few days ago by some of these very Germans, and the man is thirsting for revenge; he will do all and venture all to bring destruction upon these men."
"But they have placed their sentinels so that it will be impossible to elude them, and, besides, how could anything of importance reach my ears?"
"Leave the eluding of the sentinels to Fournier, and for important information we must depend upon Gervais; let him listen well. These officers can have no idea that he understands German perfectly?"
"Not the least; the colonel always speaks to him in execrable French."
"Then let him be constantly on the watch for news, and let me hear it instantly through the maire. May I rely upon you?"
"You are playing a dangerous game, Count! We shall be discovered; and if we are, we are lost, for Count Schlichting knows no mercy."
"Then none shall be shown him."
"He will need none. I implore you, Count, to moderate your zeal; you will only plunge into ruin if you attempt to attack an enemy that so outnumbers you. We, the maire and I, shall both be shot if we are suspected of holding any communication with you."
The Count gazed sternly at Sorr. For a moment he seemed to bethink himself; then he said, laying a sharp stress upon each word, "I am almost tempted to believe you capable of playing the traitor, Herr von Sorr. I would not advise you to contemplate such a course; one step in that direction and Count Schlichting shall learn by a letter from me whom your clumsy disguise conceals. Remember you are closely watched. If you are true to me you shall have your reward; but if you are a traitor, by Heaven! you shall meet a traitor's death. If you should escape a German bullet, a French one shall find its way to your heart. Now you know where you stand. One more piece of advice: for God's sake avoid that cursed brandy-flask for the next week at least. Come, be a man, Sorr; promise me that you will not drink a drop for the next eight days."
Sorr promised, and Repuin took his departure, leaving, as he had come, by the window. Sorr closed it softly behind him and stood at it for a long while, dreading to hear a shot in the shrubbery, but all remained quiet.
The next few days were gloomy with misty, rainy weather, and Count Schlichting grumbled incessantly at the enforced idleness of his command. Arno and Kurt employed the time in improving their knowledge of each other, and passed many a pleasant hour together with Count Styrum in exploring the park and gardens of the castle, which were remarkably fine and spacious. On returning from one of these walks about a week after their arrival at Assais, they found the castle court-yard a scene of much bustle and excitement, and learned that orders had arrived recalling the Saxon regiment to Nontron and Chalus,--orders that had been received with enthusiasm, since they pointed to a general massing of forces preparatory to a move upon the French army of the north. The colonel came into the dining-hall with a very cheerful countenance, and, taking his seat with the Uhlan captain, Von Säben, and several officers, drank a bumper to an energetic continuance of the war, and to its speedy victorious termination.
The Uhlan captain alone was depressed, and with good cause; for while the Saxon regiment was to take up its march to Nontron on the following morning, the squadron of Uhlans was to remain at Assais until further orders, to prevent the formation of bands of franctireurs in the surrounding country. Although this was an honourable service, it was one that could be crowned by no laurels, and life in the castle, after the departure of the Saxon officers, would be by no means attractive. The captain's only hope was that the colonel might be right in declaring that before many days the Uhlans also would be withdrawn from so advanced a post.
Kurt von Poseneck too was greatly disappointed at the prospect of losing sight of Arno von Hohenwald. He had so rejoiced in the new-formed friendship with his betrothed's brother, and now it was to be thus nipped in the bud. As soon as was possible without churlishness, Styrum, Arno, and Kurt withdrew from the circle of their comrades on this last evening and passed together a farewell quiet hour. When they separated Arno pressed Kurt's hand. "We shall perhaps not see each other to-morrow," he said; "let us say farewell to-night; only for a short time, I trust. When you send a letter to the Rhine remember to send my greetings in it, and in return I will send yours to Celia, and tell her that the greatest pleasure I have had during the campaign has been to learn to know and to cordially like my future brother-in-law. Farewell, Kurt!"
The three had lingered longer together than they had intended, and when they separated at the foot of the staircase leading to Styrum's and Arno's apartments perfect quiet reigned throughout the castle. Kurt's room was at the end of a long corridor on this second floor, and as he walked along it his steps sounded so loud in the intense stillness that he took care to make his tread as light as possible, lest he should arouse his sleeping comrades. The corridor was very long, and his room lay next to his captain's, the windows of both looking out upon the court-yard. The night had grown cloudy, and the long window before him, that would have given some light if the weather had been clear, was of no use to illuminate the darkness around him, but Kurt cared little since he could not possibly miss his door, the second from the end on his right. He had reached about the middle of the passage when his attention was roused by a noise upon his left; he thought he heard approaching footsteps. He paused and listened; yes, he was right; a door opened softly upon his left; he had a momentary glimpse of a spacious, dimly-lighted apartment, and Monsieur Gervais stood before him holding a lantern, the light of which fell full upon the young officer. The man was evidently much startled, but quickly regaining his self-possession, bowed with the courtesy he always displayed to the Prussian officers, and offered to light the lieutenant to his room, excusing himself for having, under the impression that every one in the castle had retired to rest, extinguished the lights.
He then preceded Kurt with his lantern, and only left him when he had lighted the candle in the young man's room.
Why had the Frenchman been so startled, so evidently frightened, at first sight of a Prussian officer? and whence came Monsieur Gervais? These were questions which Kurt asked himself as soon as he was left alone,--questions which he could not answer. It occurred to him that, confident in their numbers, the officers quartered in the castle had neglected many precautions that prudence would have suggested. Not one of them had hitherto thought it worth while to explore all the rooms and passages of the huge old castle. All had been content with the comfortable quarters assigned them by Monsieur Gervais, and had not reflected upon the facilities that the other rooms might afford for concealing spies and traitors. Kurt determined to use the first unemployed hours of the following day in exploring the castle thoroughly, and particularly in ascertaining whence the door led at which Monsieur Gervais had appeared. As far as he could judge at present, the large room, of which he had had a glimpse, must be traversed to reach the wing built out into the park, at present inhabited by the Baron de Nouart.
With the determination to atone for a neglected duty he ceased to think of Monsieur Gervais or of danger threatening him; he dwelt rather upon Arno's last words to him; his heart beat at the thought that he had accepted him as a brother-in-law, and Celia's lovely image accompanied him to the land of dreams.
He never suspected that Monsieur Gervais was standing outside his bedroom-door listening with bated breath to every movement of the young officer, and that his ear was not removed from the key-hole until the long, regular breathing inside told him he had nothing to fear from the Uhlan's wakefulness. The enemy slept. Monsieur Gervais could now pursue his way unmolested, but he would guard against a second surprise. He put the lantern on the floor, took off his boots, and in his stockings glided swiftly to the grand staircase, which he mounted to the very topmost story of the castle, then through a labyrinth of lumber-rooms he reached the door of a retired apartment; here he knocked softly three times; a bolt inside was drawn and the door opened. "Is all secure?" was whispered in the steward's ear.
"Yes; they are all asleep at last," was the whispered reply. "There is no time to waste; take off your boots; you must go in your stockings as I do."
"Whither are you taking me?" the man asked.
"Down-stairs and through the blue room to the Baron."
"Why not down the back-stairs, as I came up?"
"Because two sentinels were placed there this very after noon. Quick! quick! we have no time to parley; the Baron has been expecting you for more than an hour."
The maire, for it was Fournier, of whom Repuin had spoken to Sorr, obeyed. In his stockings he noiselessly followed his conductor, who cautiously guided him down the grand staircase to the door of the blue room, at which Gervais had appeared before Kurt. When it had admitted them and was closed behind them, the steward gave a sigh of relief. No officers were quartered in this wing; he paused and handed the lantern to the maire, saying, in a low tone, "Now you can find your way to the Baron without my help. I will slip back to my room in the darkness."
"Are you not coming with me to the Baron?"
"No; it is unnecessary; he knows all that I have been able to discover; he will tell you what you ought to know. Farewell, Monsieur Fournier; I will go and pray the saints to get you safely out of the castle."
"I shall get off safely; at least these cursed Germans shall never capture me alive, and woe to the man who attempts to detain me! I will not die unavenged!"
The two men separated, and the maire pursued his way to the door of the Baron's room, where he found instant admittance.
De Nouart was pacing restlessly to and fro; he had been awaiting Fournier for more than an hour, and had begun to fear that some accident had befallen him. "At last you are come!" he exclaimed. "I was almost crazed with terror lest you had been discovered!"
"No one suspects that I am in the castle."
"Thank God! If I could but know you once in the forest and on the way to our friends, I should indeed bless my lucky star! We have all taken our lives in our hands, maire."
"And what of that? To-day or to-morrow what matter? I would rather it were to-day, but that I have some hope of vengeance upon these accursed Germans."
"You will have abundant opportunity for that," the Baron rejoined; "but you have a long journey to make to-night."
"Be quick, then; tell me my errand and let me be gone," the man said, gloomily.
"You can serve your desire for revenge upon your boy's murderers in no way more surely than by carrying the important intelligence to Count Repuin that the enemy is to depart to-morrow morning early for Nontron and Chalus; the Uhlans only are to remain in Assais, and this probably only for a few days. All this Gervais has learned from the colonel himself. If Count Repuin has collected a sufficient force to make an attack, he must be quick about it or he will find no foes in Assais."
The thought that the hated Prussians might escape lent wings to the maire's resolve; he leaped from the window, as Count Repuin had formerly done, and vanished the next instant in the mist. Again, as formerly, did the Baron listen, lest a shot should tell of the discovery of the fugitive, whom in truth he cared for as little as for that other, and yet for whose safety he trembled. His anxiety was unnecessary, the deep silence of the forest was unbroken.
He turned from the window and gave himself up to reflection upon the dangers that encompassed him. Had he done right in apprising Repuin of the intended departure of the Saxons? If the Count should make the attack and be repulsed, would not Prussian vengeance first strike the French inmates of the castle? It had been folly to incite the Count to an attack! But no, whatever came of it he must keep his word to the Russian. Prussian vengeance he might escape; the Russian's never. He was bound body and soul to this man whom he hated; he could not free himself from the chain.
His head ached with the thoughts that crowded upon him; he was terribly weary and exhausted. There was one way to cure this dull pain, one means to scare away this terrible weakness; but he had promised not to use it. A single glass of the fiery liquid in the flask on the sideboard would send the blood dancing in his veins again; a single glass! Repuin was far away, there was not the slightest danger threatening for the moment; was he an utter slave to the Russian? No; he would endure it no longer. He poured out a glass from the flask and emptied it at a draught. Ah, this was strength and courage to face the future! Another and another. He had not slept o'nights of late, now he began to feel delightfully drowsy. By the time the flask was finished he had slipped from his arm-chair to the floor, where he lay until the following day.
Early the next morning, immediately after sunrise, the Saxon regiment fell back upon Nontron. The weather was superb, and had its effect upon both officers and men, although Count von Schlichting felt it his duty to warn Captain von Säben before his departure that he must be upon his guard against treachery. The old colonel did not like to leave so small a force in so hostile a country, infested on all sides by franctireurs, and not even the brilliant sunshine and the relief from inaction could altogether dispel his regret at leaving them thus.
Kurt von Poseneck was at some distance from Assais when the Saxons left it. He had, with a command of about a dozen Uhlans, been ordered to make a reconnoissance in search of franctireurs, and he could not, of course, take leave of his friends. When he returned in the afternoon Arno and Styrum had both gone, and Kurt found only his captain, Von Säben, and two comrades ready in the large dining-hall to partake of the excellent dinner provided for them by Monsieur Gervais.
Had the sun not shone so brilliantly the large hall would have seemed gloomy enough, and even as it was the emptiness and quiet of the apartment, where lately so much noisy gayety had held sway, had a depressing effect upon the Uhlan officers, which Kurt's report was not calculated to dissipate. Even Von Säben looked grave, and was reminded of the colonel's parting words.
Kurt had nowhere found an enemy; if there really were bands of franctireurs in the vicinity they had withdrawn into the forest of Assais, which afforded hiding-places from which cavalry were powerless to drive them. This forest was a sort of continuation of the castle park, and if danger there were, it lay in the probability of an attack upon the castle from this direction. That such a danger existed Kurt was convinced by the behaviour of the country-people in all directions. They had shown no open hostility to the Uhlans, but their demeanour had been that of men looking forward to a time near at hand when they might take revenge upon their foes. At all events this had been the impression produced upon Kurt's mind, and Captain von Säben so far heeded it as to double the watch at various posts around the castle, and to take other precautions to insure safety.
Kurt withdrew early from the dinner-table, intending to write letters in his room, and as he passed along the corridor towards it his resolve of the previous night suddenly occurred to his mind. He was directly opposite the door at which Gervais had appeared, and the steward was at present busy in the dining-hall, which he could not leave for some time to come. There could be no time more favourable than the present for his exploration of this part of the castle. He tried the door at which he stood: it opened easily; he entered, and closed it behind him.
He found himself in a large room hung with blue, and somewhat dark, as it was lighted by but one window; it was only a thoroughfare, as was plain from the furniture, that consisted simply of cabinets placed against the walls. Kurt went to the window, and found that he had been correct in suspecting that the room led to the wing extending into the park, in which were the Baron's apartments; before him was the lawn, in front of the Baron's windows, and to the left was the park itself; he could even see the path by which he, with his two friends, had on the previous day visited the stables at the back of the gardener's house, where the Baron kept a fine pair of riding-horses, belonging to his cousin the Marquise.
Which of the four doors that opened into this apartment should he select? He tried the one nearest him; it was unlocked, and he entered a room furnished with the greatest luxury, and leading by an open door to a bedroom as gorgeously fitted up. A writing-table stood beside the window, and an open portfolio, from between the leaves of which, as Kurt took it up, fluttered a torn envelope, addressed in German to the "Herr Count Repuin." Count Repuin! Kurt knew the name but too well. Herr Ahlborn had at Lucie's request told him his daughter's sad story, and this name was branded in his memory as that of Lucie's unprincipled persecutor. And he found it here upon an empty envelope postmarked Brussels. The connection was easy to divine, Repuin was the brother of the Marquise de Lancy, and the former inmate of this room. But he had not fled to Germany alone: Sorr had accompanied him. There suddenly occurred to Kurt an explanation of the fact that Styrum, Arno, and the colonel, to all of whom Sorr was personally known, had been puzzled by the resemblance of the Baron de Nouart to some one whose name they could not recall. If all this were as he suspected, if Repuin, the proscribed French agent, were really the brother of the Marquise de Lancy, if his tool, Sorr, were here in the castle in disguise, certainly the greatest caution was necessary; there was danger of treachery on every hand, danger that perhaps could be averted only by the instant arrest of the Baron de Nouart. And yet, could mere suspicion justify such an arrest? The man would have to be taken to Nontron, and tried there by a court-martial, which, under the direction of the pitiless Count Schlichting, could end but in one way,--death.
Kurt thought of Celia's friend, of Frau von Sorr; the death of her worthless husband would restore her to life. But in an instant he spurned the unworthy thought. His friendship for Lucie should never influence him where duty was concerned. This duty, however, bade him reveal his discovery to his superior officer; it was for him to command in this matter, Kurt's part was to obey.
The light was dying in the west, he had not time to continue his explorations thoroughly, and, after satisfying himself that this room was connected with De Nouart's apartments by a winding staircase, which led past servants' rooms, Kurt returned unmolested to the blue room, whence he issued unobserved into the corridor leading to his own and Von Säben's quarters.
He found his captain just returned to his room from a tour of inspection of the posts about the castle, and quite ready to listen to all that he had to say. Of course Von Säben knew nothing of Repuin or of Sorr. Kurt explained who they were, and their complicity in treasonable plots in Germany, without in any way mentioning Frau von Sorr. They were both proscribed French agents.
"The address on the envelope is, after all, your only ground for suspicion that the proscribed Count Repuin is one and the same person with the brother of the Marquise de Lancy, and that the Baron de Nouart is a German, and the Herr von Sorr of whom you speak," the captain said, when Kurt had finished his narrative.
"That and the resemblance observed by Count Schlichting, Count Styrum, and the Baron von Hohenwald between the Baron de Nouart and some one whom they had seen."
"But neither of these gentlemen was reminded of Sorr. Count Schlichting has told me that he has an excellent memory for faces, and should recognize one that he had once seen, even after twenty years. Would he not instantly have known Sorr?"
"He probably never imagined that he should find him here in France under the name of the Baron de Nouart. The Baron's avoidance of us, and his pretended ignorance of the German language, seem to me very suspicious circumstances." Kurt remarked.
"And yet they are hardly sufficient to warrant my arresting him and sending him to Nontron," the captain replied. "The colonel is an excellent man, but he is fond of a short shrift, and apt to take suspicion for certainty. If he should discover Sorr and the Baron to be one and the same person, he would have the poor devil shot without more ado; and it may be that, even although he wishes to avoid us, he does not meditate treachery. I am not fond of courts-martial, Herr von Poseneck, and I do without them when I can. Your discovery is certainly of importance, and it behooves us to be more upon our guard than ever. We have been imprudent in instituting no thorough search of the castle. This shall be undertaken to-morrow, and if we find proof of the Baron's guilt he shall be brought to justice."